I march up to the front door
of a red-bricked house
vast skies and soft, wispy clouds drifting above... my gaze
shifts below, to the brown door. This house looks lovely
and so does the door.
I am somewhere in Wales,
it's cold but 3 knocks and a kind woman invites me in,
warmth be the one that saves my freezing skin;
hot chocolate to warm my insides and relax my mind.
My wonderful aunt leaves me to rock by the fireplace,
after some time,
I will leave again to play with my friends.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 11:50 AM UTC
I march up to the front door
of a red-bricked house
vast skies and soft, wispy clouds drifting above... my gaze
shifts below, to the brown door. This house looks lovely
and so does the door.
I am somewhere in Wales,
it's cold but 3 knocks and a kind woman invites me in,
warmth be the one that saves my freezing skin;
hot chocolate to warm my insides and relax my mind.
My wonderful aunt leaves me to rock by the fireplace,
after some time,
I will leave again to play with my friends.
